


On your knees

by TimeLordOfManyNames



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10730991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeLordOfManyNames/pseuds/TimeLordOfManyNames
Summary: A true Starfleet officer doesn't let those who count on him down. A true Starfleet officer never lies and never gives up even if the enemy is outnumbering him. A true Starfleet officer doesn't kneel and doesn't turn his back to danger.





	On your knees

**Author's Note:**

> Music: «Ich will» by Rammstein.

The guard gave him a targeted kick to the popliteal space, forcing him to fall. Julian raised a burning look to Garak that towered over him with the same polite smile which with he must be ordering tea or giving kill orders.

"Well, doctor, am I really asking something unperformable of you?"

A sneer, sounded in the voice of the cardassian, the more mocking the more equivocal Julian's position was, made him clench his teeth

"Do you want to better your friends' lot?" Garak clutched doctor's chin with the tips of his fingers and forced him to throw back his head so that he could meet his eyes. "Or would you prefer me to pass my superiors everything I know about your little conspiracy? An escape bid after a cooperation agreement can be considered as a treachery," a condescending smile was serpentinizing on his lips, no less minacious than the soft tone which with he was speaking. "Do you know how treachery is punished on Cardassia?"

Leaving his chin free, Garak turned and gave a sign to the soldiers at the door that they can go. Then, moving suddenly sharp, he seized Julian by his hair, forcing him to look him in the eyes again.

"Or should I remind you?" he almost growled, narrowing eyelids dangerously, like a predator that already found a place on its victim's body where he intends to deliver a smashing stroke.

Julian was hot. No doubt he would unloosen the collar of his uniform if his hands weren't tied up tightly behind his back. The ropes burned painfully into his wrists so that half of his fingers have already lost sensivity. There was a guard right behind his back, two more were standing further off and just one step in front of him the one whom with he was used to share the table during lunch in the replimat was towering. Except that what was happening here and now hardly could be called a civil talk about cultural differences.

A true Starfleet officer doesn't let those who count on him down. A true Starfleet officer never lies and never gives up even if the enemy is outnumbering him. A true Starfleet officer doesn't kneel and doesn't turn his back to danger.

Unless if to meet the danger face off one has to kneel.

Julian gave Garak that raised his eyeridge expectantly — insofar as this gesture could be accessible to a cardassian, of course — another look. A thing, covered here and there with vestigial scales, freed somehow off the fanciful — in his judgmental view — dress of the already ex-tailor, hovered right before the doctor's face.

After taking a deep breath and swallowing, Julian seemed to make his choice. Having his face tilted forward, he touched cautiously the dick of the cardassian with his lips that, judging by its pulsation, seemed to urge attention quite a while. Garak put one palm on the doctor's nape and half-closed his eyes, watching closely the performance opening to him through his half-lowered eyelids. Slowly and carefully, like if tasting by tongue, Julian took as much as he could suck in and began smooth movements with his head — as unskillful as arousing.

Having his fingers dived into the dark doctor's hair, Garak squeezed it, straining it and setting the pace that was more pleasing to him. Julian was out of breath, but the cardassian cared little about it — now he was an unrepugnant toy that would do everything to save commander Sisko and the others. Especially Jadzia. Sneering, Garak made a move that caused Julian to cough. The sensation of contracted muscles made him feel the climax approaching, however it wasn't in his plans. Having moved Julian's head aside with a jerk, the cardassian knocked him to the floor and gave an order to the rest of the guards in the room to leave.

The doctor tried to recover his breath convulsively and to take some a bit more acceptable position. He couldn't see Garak, but was able to deduce by rustle that he was undressing. The clothing was falling, covering the floor with fabric of different type and color, and this sound seemed to encapsulate the inevitability. Having tried to crawl away even if for a couple of steps, Julian realized the whole senselessness of his attempt when a barely perceivable laugh was heard over his head and then he was grabbed roughly by his tied hands that almost dislocated them. After taking a sitting posture, the doctor wanted to try to enter into a dialogue, but was caught immediately by his hair, following which Garak, having given some command to the computer that promptly removed a covert wall, dragged him along the floor.

There was no point in screaming, so Julian just moaned stifledly with pain through tightened lips, trying to crawl to reduce the strain of his hair even remotely. Having reached a low bed, quite unlike those ones on which cardassians do usually sleep, Garak cast the doctor on it so that he evaded a hit to his chin by a miracle. To draw off his trousers together with the underwear was a couple of seconds work.

"Well, doctor, let's see, how much do you want to save your friends," Garak half-asked mockingly, parting the buttocks of his victim a little and entering without preparing.

Julian screamed. It hurt. He would bite his hand if he could, but for lack of this possibility he had to bite the bedsheet. The cardassian moved sharp and rough, having no concern at all for the pleasure of the one under him. Finally, sensing the climax approaching again, he halted and exited the doctor's body that smarted and ached as if a box of coal was spilled on it and moreover some particularly pesky pieces were put where they shouldn't tormentingly slow. Unable to hold back a sigh of relief, Julian felt that just a couple of moments later his back passage was being smoothed quite delicately with some sort of a refreshing viscous liquid. Thereafter a new penetration followed, but this time Garak, as if on purpose, chose an exact angle needed for the doctor to twich for the first time not because of pain.

"I thought, why not to vary our pastime a little bit?" a thick whisper came to his ear.

Barely perceivable laugh sounded again, and the cardassian, after stroking Julian's thigh with one hand, moved his palm to the doctor's dick with a clear intention to make it get interested more thoroughly in what was happening. Rough skin, much more coarse than human skin, reflected with a cascade of so very inspiring sensations, entwined fancily with the smooth thrusts from behind. Garak kept moving in the rhythm he held convenient to himself, but this time the pleasure was mutual. The combination of pain and pleasure drove Julian mad. His hands became numb completely, the pose was extremely uncomfortable, he bit his lips, but still couldn't keep himself from moaning in response to the moves of the cardassian. Who was humiliating him, dominating him, but unable to break him.

The moves became faster, rhythm uneven. The doctor felt his jumper soaking with sweat, Garak breathing huskily over his head, burning Julian's neck with unusually hot breath. At last as if the stars were exploding before his eyes — in a long drawn-out moan he came to the bedsheet and went limp. The cardassian followed him after several final thrusts.

His hands were free again. While warming up the wrists of his lover, Garak was grinning widely, looking at the blush that overflew his face.

"Computer, time."

"Don't worry, we still have twenty minutes to tidy ourselves," the cardassian looked at the doctor indulgently. "Quark doesn't have a habit to meddle in others' business — if the latinum is meddling in, of course."

Having the blood circulation restored, Julian dressed up, while casting sideway glances at the how Garak was putting on his clothes.

"I didn't know you have such... predilections," he threw casually over his shoulder.

"And if you knew, so what then?" the doctor asked, evading an answer.

Garak turned around. The same predatory smile serpentinized on his lips.

"Then, my dear Julian, I would put you on your knees as far back as we first met."


End file.
